


i just look at you and hope that youll be fine

by alternateevak



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, bc like ye just read it you'll get it, but i was listening to my tua playlist and i was in ky feels so like, idkwhat this is or where it came from, kinda torture i like guess not neccesarily, thats all folks, this is kinda based off all i wanna say by lntalius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-28 04:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18203237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alternateevak/pseuds/alternateevak
Summary: five protects klaus from reginald mf hargreeves but klaus totally protects him back and i guess almost fluff ensues





	i just look at you and hope that youll be fine

**Author's Note:**

> I actually have no fucking ideA WHERE THIS CAME FROM if you've read my text fic this is like ,,,, the opposite of my confort zone but i wanted to try and write someting different so heres so v angsty so v v v angsty and kinda maybe a lil bit of soft brother bonding but yeh i mean its totally out of my fluffy comfort zone but yeh
> 
> so please lmk what u think critisicism is welcomed when constructive !!
> 
> \- sam

It was quiet dinner. It was the winter, so the sun was setting, and the cold was setting in. Their father insisted they had the door open, so the draft rushing through the room made the children shiver, made the room shake. The wind drifted its way into the building, snaking through the hallways and the door frames and down the backs of their necks making the hairs stand up.

That wasn’t really the wind though, not that any of them would admit. The tension of the room was almost colder than the winter winds, the real reason for the hairs on the back of their necks lifting. The hairs on the backs of their necks standing up in nervous anticipation as they ate the food that sat up their plates attentively. They glare at their newly polished shoes, fiddling with their uniforms and their cutlery. The atmosphere of the room was like that of strangers, a nervous anguish, uncertainty in every word uttered.

Not as if they were actually saying anything. It was extra training day. A Friday. They all dreaded the Friday. Nobody knew who it would be, unlike with daily training. Daily training was structured, organised. There was a reason for daily training. They knew their drills and they knew their patterns and they’d learn what they needed in their allocated hour before slowly laundering away from the scene and returning to basic studies such as maths and English with their siblings before the next person would move along. Daily training was standard practice.

Extra training was the complete opposite.

Extra training was the monsters under the bed crawling out and following their every move. Extra training was pulled from the depths of hell, an unusual occurrence. Every Friday after dinner, the children had noticed, dad would randomly select one of them to go and do extensive extra training. There was no allocated time, there was no looking at the clock and wishing for it to go faster. They didn’t know what they’d be doing, why’d they be doing. Extra training was an exercise to push their limits, punish their bodies for not being good enough, ripping any childhood they could’ve had inside of them and throwing down the drain. Extra training was fear.

Five had noticed that extra training, however, was almost always Klaus. Klaus, with a heart of gold and his annoy attitude towards everything. Klaus who, despite never doing anything wrong, still seemed to do everything wrong in dad’s eyes. Klaus who could see the dead. Klaus whose nightmares haunted him during the day too.

Five never understood how dad trained Klaus. Five usually understood everything, from extensive algorithms and equations of time travel to dads weak reasonings for the extra training sessions. But Klaus, five had never understood how dad trained Klaus. Klaus saw the dead, he could communicate with the dead, how do you train someone to do anything with that?

He also hated seeing Klaus leave for extra training. He saw the tears with reflections of trauma and fear as he was escorted away. He saw ben’s fatal attempts to stop their so-called father as Luther stomped on ben’s feet and held him in his seat. Five would squeam and fidget, an unusual attribute to his usually calm demeanour but he’d sit still none the less and wait until he came back.

He’d come back with his whole body shaking, so unstable he couldn’t move up the stairs. His face would be masked with cold and collected fear, divided between hatred and pure anxiety. His breathing would be quickened and his livelihood even more limited.

It always made Five’s blood boil and he wouldn’t let it happen again, he’d always tell himself, he wouldn’t. But the next time would come and then the next and the next and still he’d sit, fidgeting as Ben would fight of Luther and Klaus would be escorted to wherever he was taken during extra training. He was taken to his own personal hell.

Five always felt guilty.

So, as he sat there, staring at the now almost cold food on his plate, pushing it around with his fork as he calculatedly glanced around at his siblings ever now and then. So, he’d sit there and pray it wasn’t Klaus. He’d pray it was him and he’d pray it wasn’t them and he’d hope to god that they wouldn’t have to get hurt and his hands would tremble around his fork in pure guilt at his cowardice.

He glanced over at his father, as he raised at the table and glanced at the 7 of them. Five bit his lip nervously. _Not Klaus_ , he thinks, _not Klaus please not Klaus_.

“Number Four” his father belts across the table, grabbing the attention of all seven of the siblings. The sneer that lay upon his face, echoing the cold command which made Five tense. He couldn’t be a coward again he couldn’t. He had to help him. He glanced over at Klaus, whose face had gone from nervous to complete anxious fear. Five could hear Klaus’ heart beat from across the table and his own began to speed up. He saw Ben gulp and turn his attention towards Klaus. Klaus’ fork hit his plate with a quiet clutter as he pushed his chair backwards and stood shakily.

“Yes, Father?” He questioned, his voice wavering. The echo and the break and the hairs on the back of his neck and everything on top of everything made Five’s blood boil and he could feel his own eyes tearing up.

 _Don’t be a coward_ , he thinks to himself, _don’t be a coward and help him, you idiot!_

“I’d like you to join me for extra training tonight” he says, his gaze unmoving from Klaus’. Klaus fidgeted and Five took and deep breath. He looked at Vanya who shook her head at him, as if she knew what he was thinking. He was done. He was done watching his brother stumble in fear because of whatever goes on behind those walls. He was done hearing the screaming, his inability to find exactly where it was and jump there. He was done hearing the wails of Klaus in the middle of the night, unmoving from his bed. He was so done. He was so tired of him hurting and there being nothing he can do.

There is something he can do.

So as the scene begins to play out as usual, five shoved his chair backwards. He pushed on the table, causing a loud clutter to erupt around the room and suddenly there was an echoing silence. He folds his arms and stares at the mess he purposely made despite it being without realising. He was acting on instinct now.

His father turned around.

“Number Five!” He yelled, staring at the mess. He siblings were all staring at him with confused glares. Klaus had a hard look on his face, shaking his head, telling him not to do this for him. But five stood his ground, hands clenching so hard he could feel his nails digging into his palms. “What is the meaning of this?”

“This is bullshit, _Dad_!” He says, his voice sarcastic as ever as he heart raced stupidly. Klaus looked alarmed at Five’s outburst. “You can’t just keep taking him away its bullshit! Klaus doesn’t need any more extra training, so I don’t know what your fucking problem is! It’s _bullshit_!” He yells, his eyes watering slightly. He blinked them away. He can be strong for Klaus. He has to be strong for Klaus. He has to help him.

“Number Five I will decide whether Number Four’s training is complete” His dad said calmly, his grip on Klaus’ arm not loosening. It made his blood boil, his anger resurfacing, fear slowly being forgotten. “Now this outburst will be dealt with accordingly after I take your Number Four to his training sessions”

“No” Five says, teleporting in front of his dad with all the confidence in him. He turned towards his siblings.

Ben’s eyes were watering, a silent thank you filled with blots of pain. Blots of fear. Diego had a look of disbelief in his face, as if he didn’t believe Five cared enough. He did care. He cared more than he cared about anything else in the world. Vanya was crying, being comforted by Grace as she cried. Five had to turn away. He looked towards Allison and Luther. Luther looked angry at Five, as if he’d just broken a sacred rule whilst Allison looked confused yet scared.

“No” Five repeats, a stronger tone this time “Not again”

“Five, its oka- “Klaus starts but Five cuts him off again.

“No, it’s not okay, Klaus” Five says, calmly to his brother. They stared at each other for a moment, a realisation in Klaus’ eyes that Five cared. He cared and he was going to save him when nobody else could.

“If you’re so set on Number Four not being taken to training” His dad starts and Five tenses up. They all knew what came next. Five didn’t care. He’d protected his brother, he did it. “would you rather take his place?”

There’s a looming silence that fills the room suddenly and Five feels chocked up. He wants to say yes but extra training is suffocating, like you’re drowning and there’s no way to swim out. His eyes glanced at Klaus and he’s reminded of the fear in Klaus’ eyes and he knows he has to do this. His brother is worth drowning for.

“Yes” He says, his voice wavering slightly as he does so “Yes I would”

“Very well then, Number Five, let’s go” His father says, removing his hand from Klaus and slowly moving it across to Five. He moves forward without his father’s guidance. He knew where he was going. He knew exactly where he was going.

There was a room. He wasn’t sure exactly what kind of room it was, but it was a room. The room was designed to keep Five from jumping. Or, to make Five jump through. The walls are thick, and they absorb energy quickly. He has to jump at least 10 times through the wall and back before he can leave. It’s suffocating.

As he jumps through the first time, he feels the energy seeping out of him quickly, absorbed by the materials surrounding him as he lands on his feet in the room. He takes a deep breath _, it’s only 10 jumps_ , he reminds himself, _for Klaus_ , he reminds himself.

By the fifth jump he’s exhausted, he has no capacity to keep going. His arms and legs are like jelly and he was nothing to run on. He hadn’t eaten his dinner, the cold food unappetising at the idea of extra training. The lack of food doesn’t make up for the energy he loses through the walls of this room as he stumbles through the wall and cuts his face on a nail that was somehow carelessly left on the floor of the corridor by the room.

He looks towards his dad who physically pushes his forwards, yells at him that he was four more jumps. Five stares down at his clenched fists, the crescent moon cuts on his hands getting deeper and deeper as he glares at his fists watching himself slowly become encased in blue before it slowly disappears, showing his attempt unsuccessful. He keeps trying and trying and trying and trying.

Eventually, he slips through landing on the other side in a heap. Sweat lines his forehead and his underarms yet he’d never felt so cold. He tells Reginald he can’t keep going. His voice, however, is too quiet to echo through the walls as he curls in a ball on the floor in agony. His nails slowly digging into his skin as he tries to encompass himself in the blue light. Only 3 more jumps. 3 more jumps.

He finally finishes with a small hit from his dads’ cane. _Too slow_ , he reminds himself, _I’m just too slow._

His body aches from the jumping, so he doesn’t try and jump upstairs. He just walks, stumbling slightly on a step as his leg gives out. But somebody is there to lift him up carelessly and awkwardly. They run upstairs quickly, their gangly arms and legs rushing with worry.

All of a sudden, Five is encompassed with pillows and blankets and he was a hot chocolate in his hands as Klaus dresses the nail wound on his cheek with Grace’s kit. Klaus sits there, silent. The unusual silence from the boy makes Five’s nerves irked.

“Say something” Five croaks out, immediately closing his mouth afterwards hearing the break of his voice. He shuffles further under his blankets, attempting to hide. He didn’t want Klaus to seem him as weak. He wanted to be the brother who could protect him, not the one who needs protecting.

“I thought you’d want me to be quiet” Klaus mutters quietly as he shuffles a little on the edge of Five’s bed awkwardly. “You’re always telling me to shut up”

Five looks at Klaus with an almost sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t actually mind it as much as I say I do” Five mutters, his eyes closed as he admits to the care that surrounds the core of his heart. His voice was quiet, preventing him from breaking again.

But the glance Klaus gives him in disbelief and the scoff the follows almost offends him. Tears threaten to fall from his eyes, he can’t cry in front of Klaus. _You’re weak_ , dad would say, _weak Number Five!_

“You hate me” Klaus echoes in Five’s direction “You hate me one minute, you’re constantly yelling at me, you constantly point out you’re better than me so why would you do this!” Klaus stands up, yelling. T made Five flinch lightly.

It was so out of character for Klaus. Klaus was the one with the imagination, the one who would ruffle his hair and call him a shorty no matter how many times he yelled at him for it. Klaus is the one who would talk animatedly to a ghost in the middle of the room while they were trying to study. Klaus is the one he’d hear singing Christmas songs in June in the middle of the hallway with his headphones on. Klaus didn’t yell.

But here he was, confused as ever as Klaus yelled at him.

“I know I act like I hate you” Five starts, hesitating and sighing. He couldn’t finish while Klaus was scowling at him like that. They hated him because they thought he hated them.

He could never hate them.

And all of a sudden, he can’t hold it in anymore. He just starts sobbing, hot chocolate flopping on his lap as he does so.

“I’m sorry” he croaks out, trying to stop crying. He’s weak weak weak weak, he shouldn’t be crying only babies cry. Weak people cry.

Klaus glanced at his cold and collected brother for a second, watching break right in front of him. So, Klaus closes the door and slowly removes the hot chocolate from Five’s hands and hugs him.

“Thank you” Klaus mutters over Fives shoulder as he tenses at the human contact.

 _Hugs are people who are weak_ , he reminds himself, _you aren’t weak_.

But he feels himself melt into the hug, the tears he had suddenly let go slowly drying as he grasps onto his brother. He feels the most vulnerable, as if he could pour all of his thoughts and feelings out right now.

“You don’t have to thank me” he replies “I’m your brother that’s what we do”

“Are um- Are you okay?” Klaus asks, he hesitates, unsure of how Five will react.

Five freezes. He doesn’t know what to say. No, he’s not okay. His insides feel like jelly and he feels like he’s being ripped to shreds. He’s drowning in a pool he filled himself, he lifted the lid and prevented himself from leaving. He’s hiding in a dark room, weakness written over his features and he’s hiding so people don’t see. He’s trapped in an endless cycle, constantly degrading himself because what he says is true and he can’t keep living like this, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t-

“I’m fine” he says, his voice quick and hasty. Klaus doesn’t care, Klaus doesn’t really want to know. “And uh- and you? Are you okay?” Five asks back, sitting up slightly to face Klaus.

He knows Klaus isn’t okay. He sees the tears that filter his chillingly happy eyes when he thinks no ones around and he hears the screams that echo through the hallways, following the wind. He hears the fearful thoughts as he clings to only hope he has left. He knows Klaus is trapped too, he knows Klaus is drowning too.

“I’m fine” Klaus replies. “You should umm probably get some sleep, get your uhh energy back” Klaus says, his voice still a hushed whisper. Five nods, his lips pressed together in a tight line as he watches Klaus stand to leave.

He doesn’t know why he does it and what he thinks he was doing but he grabs Klaus’s wrist weakly, to get his attention.

“Stay?” Five asks quietly. The fear in both of the brother’s eyes were evident and Five convinced himself he was doing this for Klaus, he wasn’t weak only weak people ask for help. But none the less, Klaus nods and Five shuffles across to leave space for Klaus and they fall asleep, 20 centimetres apart yet a thousand miles away.

And if Klaus woke up to find Five curled around him like a koala bear, he doesn’t tell his siblings.

 

 

 


End file.
